


The guide to successfully surviving the wedding planning

by Ellstra, KatiesGhost



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suit Porn, Wedding Planning, hux micromanages everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatiesGhost/pseuds/KatiesGhost
Summary: If you are an evil overlord of darkness and you wish to marry a megalomaniacal perfectionist, you're probably screwed.





	1. Stylist who wishes for the sweet release of death

**Author's Note:**

> As everyone and their cat already know, Domhnall blessed us with a little comment of how maybe Kylo and Hux getting married would be the real twist of episode nine. And well, who could blame our imagination for running wild at this prospect.  
> A small warning though: We are currently not exactly certain where this will take us (although there definitely is a semblance of a plan) and therefore I cannot vouch for the rating staying as it is.

Hux’s brow creases as the stylist’s hands pull at his hair. He and Kylo decided to give in to his insistence that hairdos inspired by traditions of the planets they came from were a good idea, but seeing the golden monstrosity being woven into his hair makes him regret it. It doesn’t make him look regal or majestic or whichever adjective the stylist used - he looks like a fool. Like someone who thinks that the more expensive their attire, the more elegant or appropriate. Hux wonders whether he should execute this stylist or if firing him will do. 

Kylo is sitting on the sofa behind, Hux can see his reflection in the mirror. He doesn’t seem to pay attention to whatever is going on, but they have been there for a while now, Hux can’t blame him for fumbling with his datapad. Probably chatting with his knights about what a bore this is. Hux closes his eyes, taking a while to remind himself that this is a stupid thing to be angry about. When he opens them again, Kylo is watching him in them mirror, a slight smirk on his lips. Hux has half the mind to tell the stylist not to bother. This is not the face he wants Kylo to be making at their wedding. 

“Okay, now for the make-up,” the stylist says cheerfully. Hux supposes this means his hair won’t be tinkered with anymore. It’s not exactly to his tastes, he has to say, but if it looks like a crown… He thinks he likes the pink in his hair, but he’s always liked pink, and he’s finally decided to indulge this on his wedding day. Kylo is looking at his datapad again, and Hux is forced to stop watching him when the stylist takes a mascara to his eyelashes.

_ Why are we doing this?  _ Hux thinks, not for the first time. These past few weeks have been stressful, and the joy from being engaged to Kylo got clouded by worry more often than not. Not that he doesn’t want to marry Kylo, but  _ stars _ , sometimes he wishes they decided to have a small ceremony with no planning. Just the two of them and the undeniable fact that they belong to each other.

“I’m quite done,” the stylist says, after what feels like hours - though he hasn’t gone through all the things that terrify him just yet. He opens his eyes. 

The first thing he realises is that somehow, surprisingly, pink suits him. The second is that Kylo is barely holding back laughter. The third is that he can’t exactly blame him. 

“I don’t think this is quite working for me,” Hux says, trying to give a diplomatic answer. Kylo bursts out laughing. The stylist looks like someone kicked him and mocked him for falling. “How about you show what you have for my fiancé and I’ll think through what I’d change about this?” Hux asks, knowing fully well that the only thing worth keeping from all this is the pink. He rather likes the pink.

Kylo stops laughing, giving Hux the look of “how could you do this to me, I thought you loved me”. It’s no good for him though. Hux sits down on the couch, trying to be subtle while he watches himself from more angles. No, the flower looks just as ridiculous from the side as it does from the front. He sighs, feeling a little exasperated at this, yet another proof that letting others make decisions for him is a bad idea.

He and Kylo exchange glances in the mirror while the stylist keeps working. Hux knows they won’t be using these designs the second Kylo’s hair is pushed back and reveals his ears. Hux feels almost sorry for him - he knows how insecure Kylo is about them. But then he remembers the flower on his head and lets the stylist work. He won’t let Ren have the upper hand in this.

The design is inspired by the traditions of Naboo, since Kylo refused to wear anything from the planet he was born on or anything from those his parents came from, claiming those were the heritage of Ben Solo, not his own. Hux fell in love with him a little more when Kylo said that his home are the Order’s Star Destroyers - and, later into the night, with his tongue loosened by alcohol, he blabbered about Hux being his sanctuary. But that wouldn’t do as inspiration for the stylist, so Kylo decided to go with Naboo, the planet his grandmother came from, for Vader’s native Tatooine had little to offer in the way of fashion. 

Kylo’s make-up is more intricate than Hux’s, yet takes less time - or so it seems to Hux. Kylo turns to him, his expression something between anger and disbelief, Hux can’t quite decide with all the make-up. It doesn’t look exactly bad, but it makes Kylo appear like a doll, like something lifeless, too perfect to be the rough Supreme Leader. When the stylist looks away, Kylo grimaces – the mask breaking into the disgruntled face Hux knows. The expression looks ridiculous with the make-up which was clearly intended for people with dignity. Hux giggles. Then some more. Soon, he’s doubled over with laughter, the stylist and Kylo staring at him. He feels the flower slipping away, imagines it hanging in front of his face. 

“I think I peed myself,” he announces in between fits of laughter. Kylo chuckles too; the stylist looks torn between being offended and confused. Hux’s stomach hurts. 

“I’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to give these the dignity they deserve,” Kylo tells the stylist, rolling his eyes at Hux, “it seems we’ll have to settle for a less bold design.”

The stylist looks offended, like they insulted him, his family and his home planet. Hux is quickly growing annoyed - wasn’t this supposed to be a fitting, to see what they would wear? 

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to,” he says coldly, “and what a great honor it is for you to be entrusted with this.”

“Of course, Grand Marshal. I shall not forget again.”

“Good. Now take these monstrosities off us and let’s start again.”

 


	2. Millicent joins the alcoholics' club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an animal and alcohol involved in this. Please don't let your animals drink alcohol if you can avoid it

“I can’t possibly choose from all this,” Hux mumbles, browsing through the thick binder. He was talking to himself and Millie, yet he gets an answer.

“They’re all the same. Just pick one he’ll easily tear off.”

“Don’t be crass, Phasma,” Hux says, “I’ll be wearing it for a while before he tears it off, as you put it. With quite a crowd watching me too.”

“Right, of course. Still, it can’t be that hard - Ren’s already chosen his fabrics,” Phasma points out and leans on the backrest of the sofa, peeking over Hux’s shoulder. 

“He opened the binder on a random page and took that, I don’t think that’s a very informed decision,” Hux says. Phasma snatches the glass from his hand and drinks from it. 

“It’s very Ren though,” she points out with a chuckle. 

“Indeed,” Hux nods and looks up to admire the sight of Kylo getting fitted. The rather eccentric designer is immersed in his work, talking to himself and occasionally Kylo. Kylo must sense Hux’s eyes on him because he turns and smiles. Hux grants him a small nod. “But he looks gorgeous in everything, so he can afford it.”

“You’re a lovesick idiot,” Phasma points out, “Just wear white to contrast him. You love being extra.” 

Hux swallows a sarcastic comment - Phasma has a point. It  _ would  _ look good. Ren chose a combination of black and red - how very original of him - and Hux would look good in white beside him. Or as good as he could look beside Kylo. He browses the binder to look for white. There are several options to choose from, and he’s still undecided. Phasma has turned away, probably considering herself helpful enough already, so Hux stares into the binder, debating his choices. 

“Hux, should Millie be drinking wine?” Kylo asks. Hux looks up, confused. His movement startles Millicent, who jumps off the sofa. 

“What?”

“She was licking your glass,” Kylo explains, “that doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh, kriff,” Hux mutters, sets the glass carefully on the ground and picks Millicent up. She has traces of wine on her muzzle. Hux wipes it off with his fingers, watching her for any signs of distress.

“Are you sure you want to marry him, Ren?” Phasma jokes, “Look at him.”

“Sadly, I do,” Kylo shrugs, “Besides, I don’t think saying no would be good for me at this point.”

“I am here too if that doesn’t spoil your fun,” Hux points out.

“No, not really,” Phasma says. She puts on a gigantic hat that makes even her look small. 

“Aww come on, sweetheart,” Kylo coos. Hux glares at him. 

“What do you think of this one?” Hux shows the page of the binder to Phasma. She leans forward to study it, then runs her fingers over it. 

“Fancy,” she says, “you’ll look good.”

“Hmm,” Hux murmurs, not convinced just yet. 

“Show me,” Kylo says and turns his head, careful not to disrupt the tailor’s work. Hux stands and walks to Kylo, holding the binder towards him with a finger on the sample. 

“Still wishing we had the Grand Admiral title, huh?” Kylo teased.

“I’m going to be dressed in white, with a long cape, at least once in my life since my dear husband to be refuses to grant me my wishes,” Hux replies, “although I must say I was hoping you’d be willing to cater to my every whim.”

“If I may, Mr Hux, that is a most exquisite choice of material. The fabric is ideal for a long train,” the tailor intervenes before Kylo manages to respond. Hux realises only now that to a stranger, they must appear to be fighting. 

“Excellent. I’m looking forward to seeing your design,” Hux says politely. He briefly lays a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, hoping to reassure the designer. The two of them really could be overwhelming to someone outside the First Order. Even the address,  _ Mr Hux,  _ sounds very civilian. He hasn’t been that in years – he was a rank to most, or simply Hux to a small circle of people.  Being a simple Mr Hux somehow makes the wedding feel more real.

“Are you sure you want to risk a long train?” Kylo asks, with a smirk.

“I’m not the one who trips over his own feet,” Hux replies, “if you can remember that, of course.” 

“I was drunk and you were dragging me.”

“Good for you. I suppose that answers your question.” 

The designer glances at Phasma, apparently asking for help. She shrugs. “That’s just how they express affection. Nobody taught them how to do it properly.” 

“Sorry if we’re stressing you,” Hux replies, “it’s really just how we communicate. No need to fear for your contract.”

The designer offers a nervous laugh out of politeness, and Hux supposes there isn’t much else he can do. He and Kylo may not have a conventional relationship, but they’re not conventional people. And neither will their wedding be, no, it will be perfect and everyone will be in awe-

“What do you think, Mr Hux?” the designer enquires, apparently back in his comfort zone. Hux focuses on Kylo again. 

“Wonderful,” Hux says, watching Kylo. It’s unbelievable just how much nice clothing can do to bring out one’s inner beauty. Hux would never say that out loud, because it sounds cheesy and because Kylo would think he’s mocking him, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. 

Kylo’s cheeks turned slightly pink - from all the layers of clothing,  _ of course _ , Kylo doesn’t blush. Hux doesn’t have the heart to make fun of him for it, mostly because he’d be hypocritical. Praise is still something rather mysterious to them, something they can hardly believe to be genuine. 

“I like the details,” Hux elaborates, for the excuse to touch Kylo and feel the pattern of the jacket. He lets his hands travel under the lapels, resting his hands on Kylo’s chest. The shirt is very thin - he can feel the heat of Kylo’s skin through it. He recalls Phasma’s advice about the easiness of getting their clothes off, and leans forward to whisper into Kylo’s ear: “Can’t wait to tear the buttons off one by one.”

Kylo raises one corner of his mouth, “Is that a promise?”

“An oath,” Hux replies, pulling back. He hopes, for the sake of his health, that the designer didn’t hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us elsewhere:  
> Artist (katiesghost): [twitter](https://twitter.com/katiesghosts) and [tumblr](http://katiesghosts.tumblr.com/)  
> Writer (ellstra): [twitter](https://twitter.com/EllstraH) and [tumblr](http://ellstra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
